shelter
by Space Mortician
Summary: Fix-it fic for the hug in "The Lying Detective"


shelter.

Sherlock watched as the man he loved broke down. Somehow, even though he has never seen John like this before, he wasn't taken aback by it. No, in fact, it was expected from all the overwhelming grief John has most likely pushed aside these past weeks.

He didn't even hesitate to put down his mug of tea and go to him, but once he made it there he couldn't even believe what he was going to try and do.

Sherlock slowly brushed his hand up John's neck and the other one gently took his arm. Before he knew it he was pulling John into his chest as he wept. Anxiety swelled in his chest at the contact but the overwhelming love he felt subdued it a little. He remembered how John rejected him so aggressively the first time he tried to comfort him, and he pushed that thought away. That was before. But he knew John, and kept the hug light to give ample room for him to pull away.

"It's okay..." he whispered. It was all he could think of.

"It's not okay."

"Sherlock felt his heart sink more. He should've known better. "No..."

On a small ounce of courage, Sherlock lightly rested his cheek on John's hair.

"But it is what it is."

~a~

John cried for what felt like ages. Not only did Sherlock not dare to hold him any tighter (no matter how much he wanted to) for fear that he'd scare him, John felt so fragile. Sherlock had only ever seen the impervious soldier and the tenacious doctor, but never like this. Never...so vulnerable. Of course he felt sorry that John was in so much pain (he couldn't even imagine his state after his own death), but the fact that he finally trusted Sherlock enough to cry so openly made all the love for him grow more. Suddenly, Sherlock felt more protective of him than ever. He would never allow John Watson to be in this much pain ever again. He deserved better than this.

Sherlock was so engaged in his thoughts, when he opened his eyes again, John had long stopped crying and clutched the front of his shirt. He stopped rubbing John's arm; he also didn't notice he'd been rubbing it mindlessly while lost in his thoughts.

He felt John tense under his hands and momentarily panicked. He didn't want to let go just yet. Curious, Sherlock resumed, slowly rubbing from his shoulder to just above his elbow. He felt John take a deep breath and relax immensely. John wasn't...embarrassed?

"Sherlock." 

"Yes, John?"

"I have to go pick up Rosie."

It was strange. John didn't sound anxious or awkward like before whenever he tried to make an excuse to leave. He sounded hesitant.

Sherlock stilled his hand. "Yes...of course."

Reluctantly, he allowed John to pull away, but he stopped to look up at Sherlock. Suddenly, all the air was sucked out of the room. Even though his eye's were still puffy and his nose a little red, Sherlock was so enraptured with how truly beautiful John was.

He became sensitive to every part of him in contact with John—his right hand now lay on John's shoulder, his left still resting on his arm, and John's hand still lightly clutching his shirt. He wondered if John even realized he was still doing that, but he didn't care for long. Sherlock watched as John's gaze shifted downward to his mouth. Oh, how he ached to-

"John."

John looked as if he was jolted back to his senses and looked down. "Sorry."

"No its...fine." he said breathlessly.

Sherlock dropped his hands, his fingers grazing as if they were unwilling to let go, and took a half step back. It's alright. They have all the time in the world now.

"You alright then?"

He smirked when he saw John blushing a bit. "I think so...yeah."

"Good."

"Well I better be off then."

They held their gaze for a while longer before John headed for the door.

"John?"

He stopped immediately and turned to Sherlock. "Yeah?"

Sherlock took a deep breath and shyly looked down. "Anytime you need help with Rosie...please come by." He knew it was ridiculous to use his baby as a reason to ask John to come see him again, but it would be much more embarrassing to admit that he missed him. He geared up enough courage to look at John again. He was smiling. "'Course. I'd be glad to." Sherlock gave a soft smile in return.

"Goodbye, John."

 _It's a long way forward, so trust in me_

 _I'll give [you] shelter like you've done for me  
_


End file.
